


the greatest game

by supaprittiest



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Origin Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:33:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23021770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supaprittiest/pseuds/supaprittiest
Summary: the story of how grimmel came to hunt down an entire species of dragons
Kudos: 2





	the greatest game

It was far from uncommon to wake up in the middle of the night to find a swarm of dragons plaguing the village of Belcrana. Between the shouting of warriors and the sizzling heat of burning buildings, it was impossible to get a proper rest. 

Too young to fight with the other men in the village, Grimmel had to find other ways to make himself useful during the raids. Wearing a dark dragonskin cloak to conceal himself from his protective mother who was fretfully watching the treachery unfold from the window, he slipped out of the house and made his way to the shed out back. There, he had a menagerie of weapons at his disposal. He grabbed anything his scrawny arms could carry, axes, crossbows, a sword, and a mace. Ever since his father had been carried off by a Monstrous Nightmare, he and his mother had been left unable to contribute much to the safety of the village, but he could at least make it easier for others to. 

He ran down the cobblestone path that lead from his house to the densest parts of town where the dragons were focusing most of their attention. It was almost unbearably hot with showers of liquid flames coming down all around him, but it thrilled him to be so close to the action. His weapons were a welcome sight to the other villagers, who had lost their own either by getting axes lodged in dragons who had flown off undeterred, or had been destroyed altogether. In a matter of minutes, he was down to just his sword. 

“Get out of here boy!” growled a stern voice. It was dark enough Grimmel couldn’t quite make out his face, but he knew it was the voice of Senovir, a member of the village’s council, and one of their best dragon fighters. “What would your mother say? Go home before you get hurt.”

Grimmel’s stomach knotted with guilt, knowing that the older man was right, but he also felt a twinge of frustration that he couldn’t do more to help. His blood boiled angrily, he had more adrenaline than he knew what to do with. Pursing his lips into something of a snarl, he ran off in the general direction of his house until he lost Senovir to the frenzy of swarming dragons. 

He had expended his usefulness, but even from down the hill he could still see his mother standing at the window, her lithe frame silhouetted by the fireplace flickering behind her. If he came home now, she’d know that he had snuck out. So instead, he strolled to the woods behind the house. There was sort of a thrill about being in the forest at night, not knowing what was lurking alongside him. He still had a sword from earlier- Senovir had stopped him before he could give it away. It was probably for the best- the sword had belonged to his father, and even though it was just a weapon, there was still some sentimental value to it. 

Once his eyes adjusted to the dark, there was a definitive serenity to the woods. The smell of the ancient cedar trees, the gentle mist that curled around his ankles, and the eerie silence, all came together to cool the rage that burned inside him. Rage that Senovir wouldn’t let him help, rage that he had gotten caught in the first place, rage that he couldn’t have done anything to help his father...

But any efforts to calm down came to a screeching halt when he came across a large dark mass before him. His heart stopped, he knew immediately that this was a Night Fury. The most revered of all dragons- even Senovir was wary of them. He had never seen one in real life, and yet, here it was, curled up in front of him like a common house cat. 

Its bright yellow eyes stared back at him with a sense of curiosity and apprehension. Why didn’t it just kill him where he stood? God knows it had the means to. Night Furies were known for their precision and accuracy- once they had a target in their sights, they  _ never  _ missed. 

And perhaps that’s why it didn’t attack, it was considering whether he was even worth the effort. Meeting the dragon’s unwavering stare, Grimmel could tell that this was a deeply intelligent creature. In another life, maybe he could’ve come to respect the beast. 

But this wasn’t another life.

He took advantage of the dragon’s hesitation, lunging forward and plunging the sword into the dense neck of the animal. The dragon screeched in protest, writhing beneath him as he climbed up onto its back to get a better grip. With an ungraceful yank, he tore the sword from the flesh of the dragon and could only see a glisten to indicate the blood oozing from the wound. For a moment, he wondered if he was crazy for doing this- he had never even been this close to a dragon, let alone made a move to kill it. But he knew that if he didn’t act quickly, the dragon would take his life instead. So he brought the sword down once more, this time just between the ear-like appendages at the top of its head. 

The roar died down to a groan, and then a whimper, before ceasing altogether. 

Any sense of guilt associated with killing the creature was quickly replaced with pride. Once Senovir saw this, there would be no more doubts about letting him help out with the raids. He was a man now. He didn’t need his mother’s protection anymore, and this would prove it. 

The body of the dragon was quickly stiffening as rigamortis set in, so Grimmel made quicker work of severing a sizeable amount of the tail from the body. The head, though more impactful, would be too heavy for him to haul down to the village. If anyone had any doubts about him, he’d happily bring them to the dragon’s eternal resting place. 

He practically skipped down to the square. 

By now, the dragons had all flown off, and the survivors of the raid were patching holes in the walls of houses to be repaired in the morning. Others were picking up fallen arrows, swords, and other debris. 

“What are you still doing out here? I told you to go home,” Senovir growled when he saw Grimmel return to the village. Grimmel smirked, unable to contain his excitement. 

“I killed a Night Fury,” he goaded, dangling the tail in front of the older man. “In the woods behind my house!” 

Senovir stared back at him in disbelief. He took the tail from Grimmel’s hands, examining the tail fins and the fine, leather-like scales. He then looked Grimmel over, trying to piece together how on earth this lanky little boy took down a Night Fury unscathed. 

“I’m afraid it’s quite impossible,” Senovir insisted, tossing the tail back at Grimmel. Other villagers had gravitated into a circle around them, trying to see if they had overheard their conversation correctly. “Even I have never taken down a Night Fury.”

“You only ever tried to shoot it from the sky,” Grimmel pointed out smugly. “They aren’t so quick to the draw when they’re grounded.” 

“You’ve misunderstood me,” Senovir argued, his brow furrowed angrily. “I’ve never taken down a Night Fury because I’ve never  _ tried.  _ They’re smarter than the others, they don’t steal food from us. If they’re willing to leave us alone, I’m willing to leave them alone. The fact that it didn’t kill you as soon as it saw you proves my point.” 

“So you’re just going to let them be until they get desperate enough to start taking our food? Start taking  _ us? _ ” Grimmel protested, infuriated that his heroic efforts were going unacknowledged. But other villagers were murmuring their agreement with him. 

“Fear-mongering will not work on me, Grimmel,” Senovir warned. “There’s never been a recorded case of Night Furies taking food from our village, in the nine generations that we’ve lived here. I’ve never heard of any man getting carried off by one of the beasts. God knows where they get their food from, but clearly they aren’t interested in ours. Perhaps they  _ respect  _ the value of life, no matter how small. There’s no honour in killing if you don’t have to.”

“Don’t shame the boy, Senovir,” challenged a thundering voice emerging from the crowd. It was Vog, the village chief. Now  _ there  _ was someone who could appreciate his accomplishment. The chief had made his claim to power by killing a Deadly Nadder with his bare hands, saving a house belonging to a single mother of three, or so the legends said. He was a large, burly man, but not overweight. He could rip a log in half using only his eyebrows if he put his stubborn mind to it. So the presence of him looming over Grimmel as he made his way through the crowd was intimidating, to say the least. “Is it true? Did you really kill a Night Fury, boy?”

Grimmel found himself speechless in Vog’s presence, so he extended the severed tail towards the chief. Calloused hands took the tail from his own, turning it over and examining it briefly before handing it back to him. And then, Grimmel saw a sight rarer than the Night Fury itself. 

Under a thick, wiry mustache, Vog’s lips spread into a grin, and his eyes glinted with pride.

“Tonight, we drink to Grimmel!” 


End file.
